Memories
by angelthree117
Summary: Close your eyes, and let your memories embrace you. Mentions of torture. Chapter 7 is reposted with an updated chapter. A new chapter should be up soon.
1. Chapter 1

Close your eyes, and let your memories embrace you.

_A/N ~ Nothing but the plot is my own. Sadly. __ I have no idea where this story came from. It just popped into my head. Read and tell me whether you like it enough to continue or not, pretty please._

Another day scratched onto the wall. Another day spent on the cold hard floor of this cell. Another day on the other side of the galaxy from where she would rather be. _(Granted, anywhere would be better than there.)_ Another day without rescue. One more scratch mark to join the hundreds of others, stretching across two feet of wall space where her head spent the majority of its time; time that is, when she wasn't in the torture chambers, of course. Once, the dry husk of a woman was a major in the United States Air Force, a renowned astrophysicist, much loved colleague of workers 28 floors under Cheyenne Mountain, and guardian to an adoring alien girl, nearly 20 years old by now.

Now all that remained was a semi-catatonic, tortured, glazed shell of the woman she once was. After all, she had been captured and held for nearly a year and a half. One year, six months, and seventeen days if you want to be exact. If her timing was right when she started her calendar, today would have been her birthday, the second in captivity.

If you had told Samantha Carter that she would be held captive and tortured for that long two years ago, she would have said that while it was defiantly possible to be captured in her line of work, and frequently did happen, her team would never have allowed her to be gone that long.

That team, SG-1, consisting of the three best friends she had probably ever had, would have said much the same thing, though some in more words than others. Teal'c, the stoic former First Prime of Apophis; Daniel Jackson, sweet and kind, the archeologist that had made her project work nearly ten years ago, and died several times in the teams time together; and Colonel Jack O'Neill, the CO that had at first so protested her addition to his team, but eventually came to value Samantha's military and scientific expertise.

'_Sir, on your six!' came the call from somewhere on Col. O'Neill's left. He quickly ducked and spun around to shoot down the native attacking him with a Zat acquired from one of the team. Probably pacifist Daniel, who had the hardest time keeping track of his weapons._

'_Thanks Carter' he shouted into the air for her general hearing. Teal'c and Daniel's radios had been broken, so most of SG-1's communications had not been as immediate as usual at a distance. Consequentially, the native solders had easily found the four members of SG-1 and been able to attack rather with little difficulty._

_Finally after nearly an hour-long firefight, the visitors from Earth beat back the natives, with surprisingly little difficulty, considering the numbers that had attacked the four. A little too easily in Jack's opinion. They just suddenly retreated. Teal'c and Daniel quickly found Jack, which wasn't hard since he was in the middle of a meadow. 'Hey guys. Where's Carter? We should head back to the gate while those guys go back for reinforcements,' he said, already turning to walk towards the gate at the far end of the meadow._

'_Was Major Carter not with you, Colonel O'Neill?' Teal'c questioned calmly._

'_Yeah, I could swear I heard her over here Jack' Daniel added in._

'_Nope. That's okay. I'll just call her on the radio.' _

"_Carter? We're ready to high tail it home. You ready?" There was a moment of silence. "Carter? Let's go! I don't want to miss the Simpson's episode tonight." _

_Still no reply. 'Let's head towards the gate, maybe she went there to keep the DHD secure.' Jack said to the rest of his team._

_The three men did so, the only noises they made being occasional calls to their missing friend. By the time the guys arrived at the 'Gate and ascertained that the major was _**not** _there, Daniel was openly worried, Teal'c was... stoic, and Jack was secretly freaking out on the inside. Sam and Jack had recently semi-admitted their feelings after Sam's dad had died and he wasn't willing to lose her now. "Carter? Please respond! Come on Major. We need to head home. Carter?!?!" Next to him, Teal'c was bellowing Carters name out, with Daniel a bit more quietly next to him._

'_Let's head back and look around a bit, guys.' Jack said to the others, only the slightest trace of worry in his voice._

'_Indeed.' Came the predictable response from Teal'c. Five minutes later the three men of SG-1were combing the trees surrounding the area that the fight had occurred. Occasionally there was still a call of "Carter" to be heard ringing through the trees, and Jack continued to call on the radio, real worry showing in his voice now._

_The group found no trace of Sam. After reporting back to the SGC, getting minor scrapes and bruises tended to, and amassing a massive search party with major firepower, (all volunteers of course), Colonel O'Neill headed back to the planet with the missing Major. Sadly, after nearly 36 straight hours of searching, and no results, the rescue party was called off and ordered home. There were other missions to be done, and the SGC could not afford the personnel and equipment used to find the scientist. _

_The three remaining members of SG-1 tried, separately and together, to plead with General Hammond, Samantha's godfather, to allow them to continue to search. However, even Hammond knew that the SGC's frontline team could not be spared any longer. Major Samantha Carter was officially declared Missing in Action, and all official attempts to find her were shut down. She would have been declared KIA, but with no evidence that she was harmed in any way, not even blood, Hammond decided to keep Jack on his side by leaving her as missing. Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c went back on rotation for missions, but they never gave up hope that one of the planets that they visited would have information about their lost teammate._

After spending a brief amount of time bound and gagged in a cave near the meadow while SG-1 was searching for her, Samantha was transferred to another planet all-together. To this day, she wasn't sure how she had been captured. Maybe the natives used some kind of tranquilizer on her shortly after she called out her warning to Jack. Maybe they just Zatted her, though that wasn't as likely because that left residual pain when the subject woke up. Whatever happened, it was very quick, and left the Major without any memory of how she ended up in the cave.

The planet Carter was transferred to was not all that technologically advanced, and if they weren't her captors, she might have given them some help with their failed experiments. The most interesting one she had seen through open doors on her way to or, when she wasn't unconscious, from the torture cell were the repeatedly failed attempts at making light bulbs.

Carter's weeks almost had a rhythm to them. Monday though Wednesday was torture, Thursday was a day of healing and sleep/unconsciousness, Friday and Saturday was more torture, Sunday healing, and repeat. Over and over, weeks and weeks, month after month. So similar, no rest. No rescue. Nights were shorter on this planet. And it was simply a planet. No name, no designation that Carter was aware of. There was a window in the Major's cell, albeit a small one, and on the rare occasion that she was awake at night, she tried to look for familiar stars and constellations, but the small square was not enough to see an entire constellation, let alone deduce where in the galaxy she was.

Each morning, however, just before the sun rose, no matter how out of it she should be, she would wake up, and see the one star that always seemed to be in view of her window, the brightest star she ever saw. And in that pre-dawn time, a voice seemed to come from the star, crying out, 'We'll find you.' Samantha supposed it was a silly dream, and maybe she was just imagining it, but that voice kept her sane, kept her resisting the questions of her torturers.

Tiredly, Major Samantha Carter, USAF, slowly, sadly, drew a picture of a birthday cake in the dirt on the floor of the cell near where she was laying, and with a sigh, blew it away. Maybe next year she would get her birthday wish. Her only wish. To be found so that she might go home.

_A/N ~ Okay... so that ended a bit differently from what I was planning. I think I changed the last sentence probably 5 times at least. Tell me what you think. And a big cookie to the person that figures out where that last scene came from!_


	2. Chapter 2

1 year, 6 months, 20 days

Sam supposed that it could be considered a good thing that the people hell bent on torturing her didn't have a sarcophagus. Then they wouldn't need time to let her heal. A few hours at most would bring a person back from the dead. So far, all Sam had suffered were numerous broken and cracked bones, set by the healer with no pain meds, scratches, bruises, cuts, and the like.

Except for Teal'c, she probably had the record for the least deaths on SG-1. They all had the one back in the first year that the Nox had healed them from. Daniel had the most deaths on his official medical record, but they all knew Jack had more actual deaths from the time spent with Ba'al. Jack had lost count of how many times he'd technically died during that time; at least several dozen.

So yes, Sam's life, if one could call it that, could be so much worse. But at least if there was a sarcophagus, she wouldn't be in quite so much pain.

It had been 4 days since her 43rd birthday, and the spark of hope Sam had harbored leading up to that day had scattered like the dust of her mock birthday cake. The star never faded though, and sent reassuring words each morning, like balm to a burn.

Sam supposed that back home her lab had been taken over by another scientist, her house packed up, and her various projects shipped off to Area 51. Maybe, just maybe, if her friends got a chance, they would find her and mount a rescue.

Maybe...

Sam practically lived on maybes now. Maybe she would be found. Maybe she would survive. Maybe her tormentors would let her go. Maybe she would get more food. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Sometimes, Sam gave up on maybes, and thought about days gone by and opportunities missed.

Mostly, she wished she had taken everyone's advice and unlocked that room with Jack. Did he even think about her? He hadn't liked her in the beginning. What if he was glad she was gone? He could have gotten a full time soldier as a replacement.

Since starting at the SGC, Sam had slowly accumulated a massive stash of yoyos that she kept at home, and occasionally took one with her on missions in case Jack was being particularly annoying and had forgotten his own fidget toys. All of the yoyos that were left in her lab or at her house on team nights were added to the stash if left unclaimed for more than three days. At last count, a week or so before her capture, there were about 200, plus a few stray strings that had gravitated into the box.

One more scratch, added to the hundreds present. A small mark, with huge meaning. Another day spent alone, nothing but memories to pass time.

A/N~ First of all, I don't own it. You should know that.

Second of all, this is basically how Sam spends her days. I tried to give a little sampling of how her head is working.

Third, if you find any mistakes, please tell me, and I'll fix them as soon as possible. Also, if you have any questions, pm me and I'll explain as best I can. Thanks for everyone that reviewed, keep them coming.

And a big hug to all of you that caught the reference to Harry Potter in the first chapter.

Don't forget the little button right there that tells me what you thought!


	3. Chapter 3

1 year, 9 months, 5 days

Sam was mostly catatonic nowadays. She barely made a sound during the torture sessions. In her cell she remained in a prone state except to eat a bite of food, take a sip of water, and mark the days on the walls.

However still her body was, her mind was far more active. She got more work done than she ever had and stored it carefully in her mind. Sam thought of ways to improve the gate dialing sequence, using less energy, and speed the process as a whole.

Frustratingly, she was also left with more time to remember home. She imagined what she would say if she had just a minute to talk to her friends and family.

To Cassie: I'm proud of you, and I'm sure your mom would be too.

To Teal'c: Thanks for being there to comfort me and save my butt.

To Daniel: You're a great friend.

To Hammond: Thanks for not court marshalling me, even with all the reasons you had to choose from.

To Jack... What would she say to Jack? One minute, then she'd never see him again. What could she say? I'm sorry; I love you? Thanks for accepting me as part of your team? Her favorite; Thanks for not strangling me to death when I killed you with technobabble.

Taking a break from questions, Sam worked out complicated math and physics problems, drawing on the dirt on the floor of her cell. She was making an effort to keep her mind in shape, even if her body was severely malnourished and weak. The food she was given once a day was a sort of thin potato soup and, if she was lucky, a hunk of dry bread.

The first few months in captivity, Sam would occasionally ask the healer or her torturers a question, such as where they were, who they were, and most importantly, why they were torturing her. The people never answered.

What annoyed Sam most was that there wasn't really a point to the torture sessions, except to beat her into unconsciousness. They didn't ask her questions, didn't try to get anything out of her really, except blood. Now she had given up asking, and only speculated on it once in a blue moon.

One more scratch on the wall. One more day gone by, one more day without a rescue. In a small stone cell on a planet millions of light years from her own, a petite blonde, dirty and bruised, fell asleep and dreamt of home.


	4. Chapter 4

1 year, 11 months

Sam was tired, so very tired. It was a challenge to stay awake each day. Death looked more and more appealing an alternative to this so called life.

But today, for the first time in over a year, Sam smiled. She should have been taken to the torture chambers hours ago, but no one had come for her. Plus she had awoken to the smell of hot, fresh, buttery bread. The hunk of bread she got with her soup most days, if she got bread at all, was hard and stale. There was also a large cup of clean water to replace the two day old cup by her head.

As the day dragged by, with nothing to focus on, and already having counted the exactly 700 scratch marks on the wall several times, Sam drifted closer and closer to complete unconsciousness.

Some time later, something jostled her into a state of semi-consciousness. Sam fought to wake up completely. She tried to get taken to her personal hell awake, and if possible, return to her cell the same way.

As she woke up more fully, a small portion of Sam's brain was thinking of why she had woken up in the first place.

Then she felt the hand land on her shoulder.

Self defense automatically kicked in, and though it hurt her badly bruised arm, Sam reached up, grabbed the hand, and pulled it to her mouth so that she could bit down on it as hard as possible.

"OWWW! Dang, last person to do that was Carter!" she heard distantly.

Carter? Wait, someone bit his hand, whom he called Carter?

Colonel O'Neill!

Now Sam doubled her efforts to get up. If jack was there, Daniel and Teal'c would be too! And if they were there, she could count on being back home in no time.

Hang on a second... Something bugged Sam about the way Jack had phrased his remark. It sounded like they couldn't tell it was Samantha Carter herself, lying right in front of them! Granted, Sam's hair hadn't been cut in almost two years. It was well past her shoulders, and coated in dirt and grime. She was covered in small scrapes and bruises, and they couldn't see her eyes if they were closed. Her clothes were trashed; torn, ripped, and layered with dirt.

Probably Sam's most identifying feature were her dog tags, but they were tucked safely under her shirt.

Finally she came to enough to open her eyes, and all she saw was the back of one Colonel Jack O'Neill, before her cell door closed, locking in the sound of the soft cry that escaped Sam's mouth.

One more scratch. A new cluster started. One day, igniting the hope of the lost Earthling. One mark, counting down the days to her up coming rescue.

A/N~ Okay guys, next chapter will be back on Earth. Thanks to those of you that have kept reading. I promise its getting more interesting. If you see anything that needs fixing, feel free to tell me. Also, don't forget to feed the insanity with your lovely reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

1 year, 11 months, 1 day

Back at the SGC

"But General, the people were being brutally tortured. Some were nothing but skin, bones, and dirt. We have to help them sir!"

Daniel pleaded with General Hammond to let SG-1 go rescue the prisoners on the planet designated P2X-774. The prison wardens/torturers hadn't given a reason for what happened in the prison. The planet simply seemed to be where other planets brought people they wanted tortured without putting the blame on the party delivering the prisoner.

Jack O'Neill hadn't said more than three sentences since SG-1 had left P2X-774. He hadn't even complained when Janet had discovered he needed a few shots updated, and decided to do them since Jack was already in the infirmary. The petite doctor had quickly done a more thorough examination, convinced something was wrong. When asked, he'd simply shaken his head and gone to the locker room to shower and change before the debriefing.

His mind was preoccupied by the woman that had caused the bandage on his hand. Jacks mind kept thinking back to 'She looks so familiar! Where would I have met her?'

Obviously it would have had to have been off-world. No one from Earth would have been sent to a prison planet. Jack cast his mind back through the years. He quickly ran through memories of places there would have been large groups of women.

For the life of him though, Jack couldn't match anyone's features with those of the woman in his memories.

And no, she didn't just have 'one of those faces'. Jack was sure, if cleaned of the dirt caked on it, and healed of the scrapes and bruises, the woman would be absolutely beautiful. He just wished he could have seen her eyes.

Blue. Jack was suddenly sure that the eyes of the woman would be as blue as ice, and very expressive. That certainly narrowed it down. Blue eyes and blonde hair that he was sure would be gleaming if clean. Okay, so where would he have met blonde hair, blue eyed woman, late 30's to early 40's in age?

There were a few women he though that would meet that description, but none of them seemed to fit quite right. Maybe it was because the eyes weren't the right color in his mind's eye. It could just be that he had actually never met the woman, and she simply reminded him of someone he had met.

That bite though...

Why did that scene seem familiar?

_*Flashback*_

_Jack reached out to rest his hand of the prisoners shoulder. Almost as soon as he had touched her, she had reached up, grabbed just above his wrist with both hands, and turned her head to bite down with surprising amounts of strength for someone that was not only tortured regularly, but also apparently unconscious. Jack couldn't help but yell._

_*End flashback*_

Jack cast his mind back to the last time someone had bit his hand like that. It had been Carter, all those years ago, on Apophis' ship. He'd reached for her and she'd... bit... him...

Several thousand light years away, Major Samantha Carter crawled over to the wall of her cell, and picked up a miniscule piece of rock. Two scratches, counting the days to her rescue. Maybe, just maybe, in two more days she would be home.

A/N~ Sorry, meant to have this up yesterday, but our internet was down. Next chapter is the actual rescue, so thanks for bearing with me thus far. As always, review! Makes me want to keep at it. Tell me what you thought!


	6. Chapter 6

1 year, 11 months, 2 days

SGC

"SG-1, gear up. You'll be heading out in an hour." The three men silently turned to head to the locker rooms. "Wait. You'll have SG teams 2, 3, and 5 to back you up, and a medical team will go along for first aid to the as needed. Try not to get killed over a few dozen prisoners. For all we know, they could be in prison for a very good reason. I'm not saying that anyone deserves torture, and you three know that better than anyone, but we aren't too sure about this planet's political situation. From what Dr. Jackson gathered, the people of P2x-774 are like the wardens of Guantanamo Bay here on Earth. The entire world's, or in this case, galaxy's, "Bad guys" are sent there. You've got an hour. You're dismissed." General Hammond waved the three men off, and said a silent prayer for their safety, and everyone else's sanity. Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c were out of the room before the word was out of the General's mouth.

45 minutes later, all five teams, each with their various shaped and sized gear, were standing in the gate room. Jack stood in front of them, laying out the plan of attack. No one else knew that Jack thought he knew one of the prisoners. Hammond would have pulled him from the mission, and his team would have thought he had finally gone off the deep end. From what SG-1 had seen on their tour, most of the prisoners would be at least mostly conscious. Finally, the gate was dialed, and the teams were off, General Hammond's "Good luck" resounding in their ears.

On the other side, a quick sweep around the gate assured Jack that there were no hostiles nearby, or hiding in the closest of the sparse woods. It was almost a disappointment. The planet looked exactly the same as most every other one they'd been to; green, lots of trees, and lots of walking. After a quick conference, it was agreed that SG-13 would remain by the gate, ready to dial home and send refugees through. The others would walk the quarter mile to the low lying prison, and hopefully enter through a side door Daniel had noticed on their last visit to the planet. The prison itself was fairly uncomplicated. It was a simple, yet effective, one level building, in roughly the shape of a pentagon, with various hallways interconnecting and scattering out from the outer walls. It was not too advanced, made of stones and basic cement, but it was strong enough to keep weakened prisoners inside.

Once inside, everyone assembled into their proper places in line. Teal'c was at the front, med team in the middle, and SG-2's leader, Coburn, taking up the rear. The other members of the mission were arranged through the line, guns and zats at the ready. After about 15 minutes of sneaking and hiding, Teal'c motioned for silence. Around the next corner was the hall containing the cells. From what the team had gathered two days before, all of the prisoners would be in their cells for a day of rest and minor healing from injuries incurred in the torture chambers.

Jack ran up past several people to stand by Teal'c, waiting to gauge the best time to move. As it turned out, there were three large, burly, mercenary looking guards, armed of course, talking amongst themselves about halfway down the hall, keys jangling from rings at their hips as they shifted.

After several moments of silence, waiting to make sure no one had spotted the earthlings, Jack decided it was time to make their move. As quietly as possible, Jack slipped his zat out of its holster, motioning for Teal'c to do the same. This done, the pair inched towards the corner. Teal'c looked at O'Neill, and watched as the human counted down on his fingers. 3…2…1… Go.

The pair bounced around the corner and within seconds, all three guards were unconscious on the ground. "Let's go!" Jack whispered. The men were to the guards in seconds, tying them up and tossing them into one of the empty cells, and shortly after that were fitting keys into cell doors.

"I've got one!" Daniel called, opening a door. One of the medics followed him in. Up and down the hall, doors were opening. The used keys were tossed into a pile. Within 15 minutes, there were about a dozen semi-coherent prisoners being escorted to the gate by SG-2 and a medic.

The cells were none too interesting, just small, almost but not quite squares, dirt on the floors, and the tiny square foot window through which one long term prisoner hoping for a rescue. One by one, doors opened, Daniel gained the trust of the more paranoid, and the long abused men and women in the cells were taken out of the prison, and back to the SGC.

Finally, Jack found the key to the cell that contained the woman that had bitten him on his last visit to the planet. Just he, Daniel, Teal'c, and the doctor were left, with the last few prisoners waiting to leave.

Jack slid the key into the slot, and slowly opened the door. The first thing he noticed was hundreds of tiny scratch marks on the wall. Judging by the sheer number, Jack guessed that the woman had been in that cell for at least two years. Jack slowly approached the person curled up in the corner of the room, when suddenly she opened her eyes and looked at Jack.

He couldn't move. Her eyes, so achingly familiar, ice blue, and though dimmed, still sparkling with life. The woman reached her small, lithe hand out to Jack who mirrored her. Then when hers was directly over Jacks, she turned her hand over, and dropped something into his. It was a metal chain, with clanking disks on the end. Once it was in his hand, the woman seemed to pass out. After calling the doctor in to check her over, Jack dared to look at whatever the thing was in his hand. It was a chain, much like the one around his own neck, and the metal disks were in fact, oblong, just like military issued dog tags. It was what the writing on them said, however, that shocked Jack so much that he couldn't move for several moments. Right at the top were the two most important words Jack knew.

Samantha Carter

**A/N ~ ****YAY! I finally got this chapter up! Sorry it's taken so long, but I've just started a new school, and I've been wandering around trying to get used to it for several days. By the way, does anyone know if it's all dorms, or just my dorm, that has issues with internet? I'm seizing the opportunity while I've got internet. I do have most of the next chapter written, so it should be up soon. **

**And, I have to say a HUGE thank you to my new beta, Hopeisabluebird. She's gone over this chapter I think three times, trying to help me make it better. Speaking of which, I do need to remember to send her the next chapter. I'll do that later. **

**Thank you to all of the lovely people out there that have continued to read and review this story. As always, Reviews are love. Please tell me if you think it's horrible, or good, or whatever. Still, review! **

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	7. Chapter 7

_AN~ Yes, this is an old chapter, but I was rereading it, and found a few mistakes to fix, and added and changed a few details, so if you like you can read again. See AN at the end of the chap. for more info._

2 years, 2 months, 10 days

SGC

Jack O'Neill was being way too obedient and untroublesome. He and his slightly small team were still being sent off world on missions. He, Teal'c, and Daniel had rescued the fourth member of their team over two months ago, and had gotten a week to stay on world in case Samantha Carter, second-in-command and team scientist, woke up from her coma. She hadn't, however, and General Hammond had decided that the group needed to be kept occupied and in trouble (an inevitable part of any SG-1 mission) off world, or else trouble would come knocking on the gate. And so they were shipped out, with shorter breaks in between longer lasting missions. Still, no one was majorly hurt, and they only had to receive help via a rescue mission twice.

Their national treasure of a teammate was and had been in a coma for nearly two and a half months, ever since she had been rescued from the place she'd been held captive and tortured for almost two years. Major Samantha Carter had been taken prisoner during a mission by the planets natives, and obviously been shipped off world shortly after that, since no rescue party could find her, and no one, particularly one colonel, would allow her to be presumed dead.

When the three men were on base, you could always find at least one of them in the infirmary, talking to Sam, holding her hand, or just sitting nearby working quietly, hoping she would wake up soon. Occasionally, when one of them got hurt on a mission, they would have a bed next to hers, and sleep at least a night in the small section of the infirmary that had been blocked off for the young woman. When it was Jack's turn at her bedside, when no one else was around, typically during the last hours of the night, and earliest hours of the morning, Jack would talk to Sam, telling her what she had missed in the past two years, talking about the team's missions, the things the scientists had done, and on occasion, if he could think of nothing else to say, he would tell her stories, some based on missions, some that he had told his son, Charlie. Mostly though, Jack told his favorite blonde, blue eyed scientist how much he had missed her, and how much he wanted to hear her techno-babble, see her figure their way out of a tight spot, and when all else failed, blow everything around them to smithereens, getting her team out by the skin of their teeth.

At all times, Jack had two sets of dog tags on. One set was his own, and the other was the chain and tags that Sam had given him, just before slipping into the coma she was still in. According to Janet, there was no medical reason for the continued unconsciousness, but the doctor suspected that her mind was trying to make sense of and recover from what had been done to her in the nearly two years away from the SGC. She had done exceedingly well staying conscious for as long as she had, but much longer in the prison and the lovely blonde would probably have reached her breaking point and most likely never would have woken up from the coma.

In fact, Janet was right. The way Sam saw it, as soon as she passed out in her prison cell, she appeared to be in a giant room, with never ending rows of filing cabinets. It was a bright white area, with white walls, high ceilings, and plain white tiled floors. The lighting was bright and fluorescent, much brighter than she remembered at the SGC. Was this what everyone's minds looked like subconsciously, or was she just that much of a neat freak? Sam wondered. Each cabinet was about Sam's height, and labeled with what appeared to be a period of time in her life, but all Sam could see were the ones that had SGC included in them. *Hmmm… I wonder what my life looks like in files…* Sam wondered, as she opened one of the drawers and grabbed a random folder.

Inside was about one of her earliest missions as part of SG-1. This particular one was of the Dark and Light planet, P3X-797, which had made everyone act like cave men. The file included her own mission report, bits and pieces of her teammates' reports, some tidbits about her own thoughts during and after the incident, including Colonel O'Neill's comment on their walk back to the Gate about that "sweet little tank top number."

Filing that away with a light blush, she moved to a different aisle, a different drawer. The folder she picked from this one was from the adventure with Argo. Sam got a good laugh remembering that one, and made a mental note, which suddenly appeared on a little blue sticky note that seemed to follow her around, floating at eye level a few feet away, to have a good piece of cake and a big bowl of blue Jell-O when she woke up. She wandered the seemingly never ending hall for what appeared to be hours, but could have easily been minutes or days or months.

Eventually she came across something that was a jarring note in the otherwise clean and organized room. Right in front of her were the two filing cabinets that, assuming her vague sense of how the cabinets were arranged was correct, should have neatly contained everything about her time in that hell of a prison. Instead, all of the files, clips, and other things were sticking out at odd angles, and piled up on each other, falling out of the drawers. Sam knew what was going on. The rest of the neatly organized drawers and cabinets represented her nicely organized and compartmentalized life. *Is it bad that I compartmentalize so much that my mind files things away this neatly? Shouldn't there be a bit more mess elsewhere?* The disorder of the captivity drawers clearly showed her that she needed to organize her thoughts and figure through the issues she had, so that's what Major Samantha Carter, lover of lists, bullet points, and color coding, did.

One at a time, Sam emptied out the drawers, organized, evaluated, reevaluated, and just generally organized her thoughts and feelings towards and about her captivity, torture, and torturers. It took longer than Sam thought it would, but eventually, she could step back, and the two cabinets blended in quite nicely with the rest of the room. There were a few things that didn't quite fit well, and would need to be worked through in the real world, if she ever found a way out of this mental maze, but it was certainly easier than counseling! Though that was sure to come in time as well.

Making a slow turn, Samantha gazed around the seemingly endless room. She'd never realized that she had accomplished so much in her lifetime, and most of it seemed to be somehow related to the Stargate! As she was about to go and find a way out of the room, something seemed to sparkle. Within moments, Sam had found the source of the glimmer; it was an old fashioned skeleton key, hanging on a ribbon attached to a drawer. It looked to be about two or three years into her time at the SGC. She wasn't sure about the specific time though, since some years seemed to have more files than others. With a slight hesitation, Sam reached out and took the key off the cabinet, and looked closer at the label on the drawer. Third year, earlier on, but why would there be a key? The ribbon was a color that exactly matched the color of the event horizon in the Stargate, the same color as the sticky note that was always nearby. Slowly, Carter pulled the drawer open, and inside was a file that was the same color as the ribbon. Sam paused. Should she open it? Would she ever find a way out if she didn't look? *Ah, what the heck, what's the worst that could happen, right?* she thought. *Although, with my luck…*

Sam opened the file. Inside were memories of the zat'arc test. Highlighted in bright yellow was Sam and Jack's discussion afterwards that agreed to leave the things they'd said in the room. That explained the key. The two had figuratively locked the door to the room, and the key was to open that door. Could she? More importantly, should she? She had spent most of the time in that cell thinking of Jack, but if she tried to open that door, in all likely hood it would ruin both of their careers permanently. Maybe the colonel didn't feel the same way for her as she felt for him. The admission and zat'arc test had happened at more than five years before. Maybe… Maybe Sam would try, and see where things went. First she would deal with her long absence, and then she would sit down and have a long overdue talk with her CO. With a firm decision in mind, and the key clutched firmly in her hand, Sam shut the drawer, and turned away from the cabinets. Immediately, she spotted a large, antique wooden door. "I feel like Alice!" Sam thought with a grin, heading towards it, and thinking of her favorite Disney movie. With only the slightest of hesitations, Sam reached out, and turned the knob.

Jack was sitting in the plastic chair; hand in Carters, with his head on the mattress by her side. He was fast asleep, and had been for nearly three hours. It was actually quite a cute, and alarmingly familiar, picture. Someone on base (*cough* Siler *cough*) even had a photo album from all the times these kinds of things had happened. It was somewhat frightening how regular the pictures were taken. Below each picture in the album was a brief description of what had happened, who did it, and what planet they were on when it happened. Obviously it was kept on base, in one of the head nurses areas, along with a camera, and another album full of pictures of Siler himself, and all of his various injuries. Janet knew about it, but it was harmless fun, and she monitored the pictures, making sure that there was nothing too bad or incorrect added.

Anyways, back to our subjects. Jack was, as previously stated, quite asleep, and would remain so for some time. Sam, on the other hand, was waking up. First it was shown by a light fluttering of her eyelashes, as if she was trying to open her eyes, then a slight twitch in her fingers, until finally Samantha Carter's beautiful, ice blue eyes opened, and saw the artificial light of the SGC infirmary for the first time in nearly two years. Then she felt the pressure on her hand, and the dip in her mattress by her side that signaled someone was both holding her hand, and taking a nap on her bed. Very carefully, so as not to jostle whoever it was, Sam looked over, and saw the top of a salt-and-pepper colored head, large frame, and an SG-1 patch on the shoulder closest to her. "Jack…" she whispered.

Across the room, Doctor Frasier was stuck with the night shift, and was working on charts while keeping an eye on the several patients in the quiet ward at the moment. When she heard a whisper, at first she thought it was someone passing by in the hall, or talking in their sleep, but taking a look at the non-comatose patients in the room, she knew that they didn't talk in their sleep, and she would have heard footsteps if someone was out in the halls. This only left one bed to explain the sound. Barely daring to hope, Janet looked to the bed where Jack was napping beside the supposedly unconscious form of Samantha Carter, one of Janet's best friends. Instead of finding a completely still, quiet form, she saw bright blue eyes taking in the room around her, which was somewhat unfamiliar after staring at the same stone walls for so long, though these were only slightly more interesting stone walls and far less hostile than the ones she had been surrounded by for several years. Again, Janet heard a faint whisper, and now that she was listening for it, she understood. It was Sam speaking the name of her commanding officer and friend.

"Sam?" Janet whispered, not wanting to wake anyone in the room.

The blonde started, being unused to hearing her name, then looked across the room to see her friend. "Ja… Janet? I'm home?" Sam seemed a little confused, which made sense, but slightly worried the doctor.

"Yeah Sam, you're finally home. How are you feeling?" Janet asked, still quietly, but walking over to the major to check her vitals and IV tube, which tended to be knocked out when people first woke up. Everything was fine, besides a very slightly elevated blood pressure. Carter thought about it for a minute.

"Could I get some water?" she rasped, unused vocal cords dry from disuse. Janet quickly helped her take a few sips from a bottle of water that was kept at her bedside for when her teammates came by, but had yet to be opened.

Sam smiled her thanks, and then continued. "I'm feeling good. I'm not in any pain. I know I'm safe and back home. I feel like I've been asleep for forever though!"

"Forever is about right. Sam, you'd been missing for almost two years, and have been in a coma for about two and a half months."

Sam was silent for a moment, taking that in. She knew that her count was off, but in prison she had just wanted to keep track of how long she had been there. Still, knowing that it had been so long, and hearing it said out loud were two different things. While thinking about it, Sam unconsciously reached out and started fiddling with whatever was closest to her hand, which happened to be Colonel O'Neill's hair. He sighed in his sleep and turned his head slightly into her fingers.

Janet smiled at the sight, and wished she could take a picture of her own to add to the album. Maybe one day, when the pair finally got married, as everyone knew they would, she would show them the album, but for now, everyone would have to settle for adding pictures. What Janet had taken to doing was adding the name of the person that had added and/or taken the picture. Surprisingly, there were several with the name of a certain General, and one even had the president's name on it. How the president had found out about the tradition no one really knew, but it was defiantly a good picture, taken at some point or another during one of his visits when one of SG-1 had been in the infirmary after one of the ridiculous number of missions gone wrong. Needless to say, that had been an interesting presidential visit.

"Sir?" Sam called softly to her commanding officer. "Nap time's over sleepyhead." Janet laughed. Only Sam would recover from two years in captivity and a two and a half month coma, and go straight to teasing her superiors. Ah the quirks of being a member of SG-1.

_A/N~ __Okay, so for anyone that has been following this story, or messaged me asking for an update, I know it has been awhile, and I am really sorry for that. I just sort of lost inspiration. I was looking through my computer and found this though, and decided to change a few things and hopefully finish this story up… Finally. I'm thinking it will only be one or two chapters more at most. Thanks for reading, and look for the next chapter within the next two weeks or so, depending on my homework load._


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